


Five Times Petunia Evans Met Severus Snape

by OssaCordis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Childhood, First War, Friendship, Gen, Minor Character Death, Multi-Era, Spinner's End, Unrequited Love, brief mention of child abuse, second war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OssaCordis/pseuds/OssaCordis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petunia meets Severus for the first time when they are both children, and then keeps meeting him by accident for almost the next two decades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Severus (Age 10), Petunia (Age 14)

 

He had been waiting for hours. She said she would come at 9:00 a.m., and it was almost 11:30 now. Severus broodingly kicked off the ground and swung back and forth. He was sweltering under the weight and warmth of his oversized coat in the July sun. She said she would come. Why was she not there?

Maybe she no longer wanted to be friends. Maybe she didn’t believe what Severus had told her about Hogwarts, and being a very talented witch. He felt a little twinge of resentment. Well, he could prove her wrong! Severus jumped off the swing and landed rather heavily. He felt his ankle twist, but he ignored it in his anger and limped off down the road.

Lily Evans had never said exactly where she lived, but he knew a general direction. The houses became nicer further away from Spinner’s End. Severus surveyed the street names: Herringbone Street, Holland Street, Oxford Crescent, Anchor End, Riverview Street. Riverview Street! Lily said she lived on Riverview Street, didn't she? Severus turned into the road and felt a funny twinge in his ankle. Never mind that, Mum could probably fix it if she felt up to it later.

The houses looked tidy and bright in comparison to what Severus was used to; on Spinner’s End, instead of lace curtains, there were windows with dilapidated shutters, and instead of flower gardens, there were scraggly patches of sickly yellow-green grass. Severus read the neat numbers over each door and wondered which one Lily belonged to, or rather, which one belonged to Lily. 6718, 6720, 6722 on one side of the road; 6719, 6721, 6723 on the other side, and more numbers on more houses going all the way down the end of the road. Severus walked a few metres down the street and then stopped again, looking around hopelessly. Somewhere, Lily was on this street. He couldn’t just start knocking on doors to find her, could he?

Several houses away, a door opened and someone stepped out with a watering can. It was a tall, thin girl with dark hair and a short yellow dress. She began attending to the flowers nearest the door, sprinkling them with a fussy sort of delicacy. Petunia Evans. Severus would recognize her anywhere. He half-ran, half-limped towards her. “Petunia! Petunia!”

The girl’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed as Severus came to a halt in her front yard. “You! What do you want?”

“Where is Lily? She said she would meet me today, at the playground. She never came,” Severus gasped.

Petunia wrinkled her nose and stepped away from Severus. “She had a doctor’s appointment today. Mum took her. They’re going to lunch too, I think, but should be back in another hour or so.”

“The doctor? Like a healer? Is there something wrong?” Severus asked with a note of faint panic.

“No,” Petunia snidely replied. “Just a regular check-up.”

“Oh. Oh, good,” Severus said with relief. “I don’t understand why you Mugg – why you people go to the doctor when you’re not sick.”

Petunia pursed her lips at Severus but said nothing in reply.

“I guess I should go, then. Tell Lily to meet me at the playground tomorrow?”

Petunia nodded. “Just so you know, I don’t think you two should be playing together. Mum and Dad wouldn’t like it very much. You’re from Spinner’s End, correct? It’s not a very nice part of town, is it?”

Severus turned and began to limp away, refusing to acknowledge the comment.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Petunia called after him.

Severus turned back. “I twisted my ankle. On the playground.”

Petunia’s mouth twisted, like she was struggling to say something or to make up her mind. “Do you… will you… do you want to come in and have cup of tea and a bit of a rest before you go home?”

Severus was surprised. Petunia was being kinder than usual.

“I… I should go home. Mum will worry if I’m gone too long.” Lie. Mum would never notice.

“No, no, it’s fine. Do you want a cup of tea or not?”

Severus nodded, and Petunia waved him through the front door. The front room was immaculate, very warm and welcoming, but at the same time, spotless. And like the outside of the house, it was bright, very bright. Severus had never been in a house like it before. He stared at little china figurines in a cabinet, and a polished chandelier over the dining room table.

“This way,” Petunia said, ushering Severus through a door into the kitchen. She filled a kettle with fresh water, set it on the hob, and retrieved two mugs from a shelf. Severus watched, fascinated. When Mum made tea, she just tapped the teapot with her wand to make it boil. “My mum uses magic to make the water boil. It’s easier, that way,” he said, trying to be polite and conversational.

Petunia placed a carton of milk and a dish of sugar on the table in front of Severus. “Is it… is it really true, what you tell Lily about magic?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Severus nodded. “Yes. Of course it’s true. I wouldn’t lie about that, at any rate. Look.” He pulled a handful of crumpled, stained chocolate frog cards out of a pocket deep in his ugly, brown coat. “I was going to show these to Lily today. You can see, the pictures move. There’s some sort of spell on them.”

Petunia stared at the cards. “They don’t look like they’re moving to me.”

“Oh, well, I guess they wouldn’t,” Severus said with a shrug. “You’re a… well, you’re a Muggle, aren’t you? You aren’t magic, like Lily.”

Petunia’s expression soured. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Lily be magic, and not me?” Her voice climbed several pitches, and Severus scooted his chair slightly away from her. “I mean, shouldn’t I be magic, too? Shouldn’t I get to go to this freak school of yours?”

“Well, you would have gotten a letter already, wouldn’t you, if you were magic? You get a letter when you’re eleven if you’re invited to Hogwarts. You never did, so I guess you’re just a plain Muggle, then.”

The whistle on the teakettle shrieked, and Petunia grabbed it off the stove and slammed it onto a trivet. “Get out,” she said, her voice suddenly grating and harsh.

“What?” Severus asked, confused. “But, I thought you said I could have a cuppa…?”

“Get out!” Petunia shrieked now. “Get out, get out, get out, you freak!”

Severus stood now, began to back towards the kitchen door. “But… but…”

“You freak! You freak! I hate you all, you freaks! Get out!” Petunia picked up a tea cup from the kitchen table and flung it at Severus’ head. Without thinking, he raised an arm in protection, and the tea cup gently drifted to the floor without breaking. Petunia gave an indiscernible cry of rage, and Severus was running. He slammed the door to the Evans’ house, and ran down the street, his ankle bitterly aching in protest. Behind him, he could feel Petunia’s eyes on his back, watching him retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was first written in 2008 or '09 (I can't quite remember which). While I was re-reading Deathly Hallows, it occurred to me that Petunia and Snape must have seen a fair amount of each other, at least for a few years as teenagers. Then I began to wonder what those meetings were like, and what would happen if they met even later as adults. So, a story was born. Since then, I've picked at it and edited it and finally got fed up with myself and decided to post it somewhere. This is the first fanfic I've posted online (though certainly not the first I've written); it took me awhile to get up the courage to share something. This is unbetaed and un-Britpicked, so please let me know if there are any glaring errors and I will try to fix them. Constructive criticism would be most appreciated, too! Thanks for reading!


	2. Severus (Age 13), Petunia (Age 17)

To be perfectly honest, he wasn’t that upset. Tobias Snape had what was coming to him: the alcoholism, the cirrhosis, the sporadic bouts of delirium tremens and hallucinations, and finally the malnutrition that had left him jaundiced and bald. To no one’s surprise, it was a closed casket affair.

Severus lurked at the back of the room, half-way sheltered by the dramatic, falling foliage of some species of waxy houseplant he did not recognize. He did not want to greet people, did not want their sympathy, their pity. Mum sat at the front of the room, rarely alone as people flocked around to comfort her. She had not stopped crying in four days. It embarrassed him. Hadn’t she seen it coming, Severus wondered. Didn’t she know it would end this way? He couldn’t see why she was so upset, after all the years Tobias Snape had terrorized her for being a witch and slowly sapped her of her will to use magic, or even live. And yet, she still loved him, still grieved for this nasty, little man who had never shown an ounce of kindness to her or her son in all the years Severus could remember.

Last year, he had been beaten. Tobias – Severus couldn’t even bring himself to call the man “Dad” in his mind – had cut his arm very badly. Perhaps not entirely intentionally, but still… Mum should have been able to heal him, or at the very least take him to St. Mungo’s for treatment. But she was so weak, so pathetic, that she hadn’t done a thing, and the wound just scabbed over and then healed into a fleshy, pink slash. Severus did not like to wear short-sleeved shirts now, a fact which Lily had commented on, but Severus could not bring himself to explain.

After an hour of watching the parade of humanity’s lowest elements at his father’s wake, the Evans family arrived, looking  awkwardly out of place amongst the inhabitants of Spinner’s End and a few of his mum’s childhood friends. The Evans family always looked bright and thriving and everything that the Snape family was not. Mr. and Mrs. Evans wore their prosperity and happiness easily, like they had never been without it. They probably hadn’t, Severus thought, not unkindly. They were the sort of people who deserved happiness, even if they were Muggles. Lily seemed to be made out of the same fabric as her parents. Petunia, however, floundered in the wake of her family. She was even sourer than Severus last remembered. She was still young, but it was already clear that she would not age particularly gracefully. She had not inherited her parents’ good looks; her face was rather horsey, and she seemed a touch too thin, almost underfed.

Lily spied Severus behind his hiding-place plant and waved at him with a sad little smile. Severus hesitantly waved back, which Lily took as a summons. She pulled on her father’s hand, and nodded towards Severus. Now the whole Evans family redirected their path and came over to him.

“Hi, Sev,” Lily said, mustering up some level of brightness in her voice. “I’m so sorry, about your Dad.”

“No, it’s ok…” Severus mumbled.

Mrs. Evans leaned over and gave him a huge, warm hug. “Hello, darling. We were just devastated when Lily told us… is there anything we can do for your poor mother?”

“No, no, she’ll be fine…” Severus said, looking over at his Mum, who was watching him with sharp eyes now. She did not personally know the Evans family, but she had to see that they were Muggles. Somehow, her asinine love for her husband and her reluctant tolerance of her neighbours in Spinner’s End had never translated itself into a general acceptance for all Muggles. She still disliked them, a hangover from her privileged childhood as a pure-blooded Prince.

“We’d better go introduce ourselves to Mrs. Snape,” Mr. Evans suggested gently.

Severus looked at Lily with desperate eyes, willing her to understand. She seemed to, but she just shrugged, as if to say, “It will be fine. I’ll be watching them.” The Evans drifted across the room, and Severus, watching his mother closely for a moment, did not realize that Petunia was still standing next to him.

“Hello, Severus,” she said coolly. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“I… I’m not. Not really,” Severus admitted, shrinking further behind the houseplant as he watched his mother tersely shake hands with Mr. And Mrs. Evans.

Petunia’s lips curled in an unattractive way. “That bad, was he?”

“Yes,” Severus replied shortly.

“Mum wants to invite you and your mother over for dinner next week,” Petunia said, watching the restrained catastrophe unfold itself at the front of the funeral parlour. Eileen Snape was wiping her hands off with a handkerchief and wore a politely horrified look on her face. “Do you think it will happen?”

“Mum… doesn’t like Muggles,” Severus explained.

“And you do?”

Severus gave Petunia a significant look. “Anyone who is important to Lily is important to me.”

“But you don’t like Muggles.”

“My father has not given me the best impression of the Muggle world,” Severus admitted.

“Fair enough,” Petunia said. “You don’t like Muggles. Well, I don’t like witches and wizards.”

Severus tore his eyes off of his mother long enough to survey Petunia’s face. She had high cheekbones that made her look haughty, and her eyes were narrow and calculating. Severus had to admit, he felt a certain level of respect for her, but mostly for her honesty. He did not like her. But he could respect how proud she was, and the spark of intelligence lingering somewhere in the back of her eyes.

“You would be in Slytherin,” he said, interrupting his own thoughts.

“What?” Petunia asked, turning to face him.

“If you went to Hogwarts, you would be in Slytherin. That’s the same house I’m in.”

A wave of conflicting emotions crossed Petunia’s face. “Is that good?”

Severus shrugged. “A lot of people in the house that Lily is in – Gryffindor – think that Slytherins are no good. But, I like Slytherin. It’s a good house. We’re intelligent people, calculating people. We understand things, how people work, what people think... we understand how to manipulate people. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think you know that.”

“Are you calling me a busybody?” Petunia asked with a shrewd look on her face.

“Maybe,” Severus said, a slight smirk on his face.

“Oh,” Petunia said. “Ok.”

They were rejoined moments later by the rest of the Evans family, and the conversation cut off. Lily chatted quietly with Severus about unimportant things for a few moments, and then she took her leave of the funeral parlour with the rest of her family. As they left, Petunia cast a look over her shoulder at Severus. He barely saw it, still wreathed in waxy, unknown leaves at the back of the room. There was something in Petunia’s face, a lot like hatred, but a little like respect, too.


	3. Severus (Age 16), Petunia (Age 20)

He swept up and down the aisles of the supermarket with an expression of loathing – usually reserved for James Potter and his gang – on his face. Every so often, he tossed a loaf of bread, a tin of soup, or something else into the basket on his arm. Mum had become almost entirely reclusive since his father’s death, and was trapped somewhere between the world of Muggles and the world of magic. She refused to do magic, claiming to be too weak and tired to do so. But she also refused to leave the house when Severus was at home, insisting that she not interact with Muggles any more than absolutely necessary. He couldn’t really blame her for that. Muggles and Mudbloods had caused him nothing but trouble so far in his life. But still, Severus felt obligated to do the shopping for her. He wasn’t sure exactly how she survived when he was at school. 

He pretended that he was at an exotic potions ingredient shop, purchasing unique ingredients. He adored Potions class at school, hated the fact that he and Lily Evans were tied for top student. Severus stopped briefly to survey the price of bacon. He translated the price into wizarding money in his head, imagined it was boomslang skin instead of pork fat he was looking at.

Someone called his name. “Severus?”

His head snapped up; he wondered if a schoolmate was there in the store, as unlikely as that was. He would be utterly humiliated to be caught grocery shopping by one of his fellow Slytherins in a Muggle store.

Petunia Evans waved at him from behind a large display of apples and pears. Severus waved back slightly, then ducked his head low again. Petunia was insistent, however. She marched right up to him, pretending she was looking at bacon, too.

“Well, hello, Severus. Long time no see,” she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “You know, Lily never talks about you anymore.”

“Hello, Petunia,” Severus replied dully. He paused, avoiding Petunia’s eyes. “I’m not surprised, about Lily.”

“Oh?” Petunia asked. Severus furtively glanced up at her. One of her eyebrows raised itself, as if by free will, and formed into a curious arc on her forehead. Severus was fascinated by the movement.

“We had a falling out,” he brusquely explained, looking away again.

“I had wondered,” Petunia said carelessly. “All she ever talks about now is that Potter boy, and his friends.”

“Do you not like him?” Severus asked in a would-be-casual way.

“I don’t like any wizards,” Petunia peevishly snapped. “I haven’t met him, no, but I don’t like the sound of him.”

Severus couldn’t help but crack a bitter smile at this. “I don’t care for him much, either.”

“You know, Severus,” Petunia said quietly, thoughtfully, “of all freakish friends of Lily’s, I suppose you were my favourite. But you’re not friends now, really, are you?”

“Not at all,” Severus ruefully replied.

“Well, I am sorry about that,” Petunia said with a sniff.

“Me too,” Severus said, so quietly he wondered if Petunia had heard him.

“So, what brings you here?” Petunia asked, gesturing to the fluorescently lit shop. “Not your usual sort of place, is it, Severus?” There was something mocking, almost harsh in her question.

“My mum,” Severus hastily explained. “She won’t leave the house when I’m home. She’s wasting away as it is. Soon I’m sure she’ll just starve to death while I’m at school.”

Petunia gave a little, barking laugh. “That’s horrible.”

“You know, Petunia, I don’t give a damn,” Severus said firmly. “I don’t give a damn about anyone anymore.”

A big, horsey smile lit up Petunia’s face. “That’s wonderful. If only we could all be that way…”

“What do you mean?” Severus asked.

“Oh, I’m engaged. I suppose you wouldn’t know that, though, would you? His name is Vernon. He’s coming over for dinner tonight, so Mum sent me out for more groceries. He’s quite a ‘Muggle.’ You would hate him, Severus.”

“Probably,” Severus agreed.

“Well, I care for him very much. I don’t think Lily does, though. But Mum and Dad seem pleased for me. Probably because they’ll be rid of me in another few months,” Petunia said with a bemused expression flickering across her face.

Severus wondered if his mother was ready and desperate to be rid of him. He could see the Evans family as being delighted to pass off Petunia onto another person or another family. There was an extended, tense silence as he thought about this. Abruptly, Severus turned to eye a clock on the wall. “It’s late. I should be going now.”

Petunia looked over at the clock on the wall. “Oh, you’re probably right. Bye, Severus. Good luck at that freak school of yours. Shall I tell Lily I saw you?”

Severus felt a little stab of pain in his heart. “No. Please, don’t.”

“Well, alright then. See you later.”

With a wave of her hand in parting, Petunia set off. Severus briefly watched after her, then called, “Petunia?”

Petunia stopped in the middle of an aisle and craned her long neck around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Good luck with your marriage… and everything, I suppose. I hope you’re happy.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Severus. Not really. But, thank you anyways. It was a nice gesture.” And with another wave of her hand, this one rather dismissive, she was gone, clacking down the long aisle in her tall heels that made her height stretch to ungainly, giraffe-like proportions. Then she rounded a corner and was gone.

Severus watched the aisle for another long moment. He had meant it, almost, about the happiness and the luck. 


	4. Severus (Age 19), Petunia (Age 23)

The sunset was beautiful, he had to admit. It was a warm day – sunny, cheerful weather like there hadn’t been for a long time in England. He knew why: the sun was shining for her. The sun was shining because Lily was happy, and it couldn’t bear to be clouded over when she was so full of joy.

Lily Evans was now Lily Potter.

Severus received the invitation, somehow. The owl had found him, despite the fact that he had been variously in hiding or changing positions throughout England, Scotland, and Wales for well over a year now. He could not bear to send a reply owl back; he wondered why Lily had sent him an invitation at all, if she was mocking him (he doubted this), or if this was her attempt to make peace with him. He wondered if it broke her heart, that he never sent a reply, not even to say, “No, I won’t be coming to your wedding.” He hoped it hurt her, but he knew she would get over it quickly, with Potter by her side. It hurt him more. He kept the invitation, though, and carried it with him in the front pocket of his robes. Over his heart.

He didn’t realize it was Lily’s wedding day until almost 8:30 p.m. The ceremony was surely over, the reception underway… Severus lay motionless in bed at the Lestrange Manor, letting the dim light of the sunset from the window drift over his face. He could hear Bellerophon Crowne, a schoolmate from Hogwarts and now his potions-brewing assistant, stirring next door. Crowne was only fifteen years old. He had dropped out of Hogwarts to join the Dark Lord, perhaps unsurprisingly to his wealthy, pure-blooded parents’ approval. He was careless, and often attempted to sneak out on raids when he had expressly been told not to; Severus suspected he would get himself killed before the year was out. He listened for a moment, heard the boy shuffling around his tiny little closet of a room.

Abruptly, Severus sat up from his bed. He was making an impulse decision, one that might get him killed, or Lily killed, or everyone killed, if he was found out. But he needed an alibi first. He shuffled out into the hallway.

“Crowne? Crowne, open up,” Severus called, knocking on the boy’s door.

Crowne cracked the door open. “What?”

“Don’t be insolent,” Severus snapped.

Crowne opened the door a tiny fraction more. “Yes, _sir_. How may I help you, _sir_?”

Severus pushed the boy back and forced himself into the room. “What were you doing in here?’

“Preparing arrowroot, _sir_ , like you asked me to do yesterday, _sir_ ,” Crowne snapped back. It seemed he was mostly telling the truth. A mortar and pestle sat on his desk, and a basketful of arrowroot. Severus’ lip curled anyways in disdain; Crowne was a sloppy potioneer, and likely to contaminate the supplies if he continued to prepare them on the same desk he used for letter-writing and storing cups of half-drunk tea.

“I’m going for a walk. I might apparate down to Knockturn Alley and buy some more supplies, too, since I see you spoiling my ingredients over there.”

“Don’t get caught, _sir_ ,” Crowne said, the same snide tone in his voice. “His Lordship would not be pleased.”

“I can only imagine,” Severus muttered.

“Can I come with you, _sir_?”

Severus was so irritated that he roughly shoved the boy, causing him to trip. “No.”

“Why not?” Bellerophon whined.

“Because you are a rude, arrogant, useless brat. I’ll be back in a couple of hours at most.” With that, Severus stormed out, swept through the Lestrange Manor, and out onto the lawn. The last rays of the sun were fading now on the horizon. Once Severus was beyond the Manor’s secure gates, he apparated with a small pop.

He reappeared, not in London, but in Godric’s Hollow. He had a rough idea where the reception would be – at least, he knew it was in the Muggle part of town, not the wizarding quarter. Lily’s parents, after all… Or her mother, at least. Mr. Evans had passed away the year before, of a heart attack. It was silly, something that would have never felled a wizard. Severus had not gone to his funeral, like Lily had gone to his father’s.

The banquet centre was fairly easy to find, only a five minute walk from where he had apparated to, but the warmth of the night caused him to sweat. He rolled up the sleeves of his robes and wiped perspiration from his forehead. The banquet centre was lit from within like a giant, whitewashed lantern. Severus could hear music, laughter, people talking, people shouting. Silhouettes fluttered by in the windows, dark and indistinct, but beautiful. He wondered if one of them was Lily.

As more and more time passed, and Severus watched the dancing, laughing silhouettes, it occurred to him that he had come merely to watch. He was never going to enter that reception, he could never bring himself to go in and congratulate Lily on her wedding, and face up to Potter after so many years.

“You can’t bring yourself to go in, either?” a familiar voice asked him. Severus jumped, not having heard anyone approach. It was just Petunia, however.

“I… I…” Severus stuttered.

“I can’t go in there,” Petunia admitted. “I had Vernon drive me all the way here from Little Whinging, and I can’t go in there! My mother is even in there!” Petunia had motioned over her shoulder, and Severus looked to see a car parked several metres away, with a big, beefy man glaring suspiciously at him in the driver’s seat.

“Is that Vernon?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You were right, all those years ago. He’s quite a Muggle. I think I do hate him.”

Petunia snorted. “He probably hates you too, with your robes and everything… and you look terrible, besides what you’re wearing. Have you been ill? And have you forgotten to bathe?”

“Thank you, Petunia,” Severus sarcastically spat. “We are in the midst of a war, in case you don’t know. No time for trivialities.”

Severus thought he saw Petunia smile in the dark at him. “Indeed. Does that tattoo of yours have something to do with it?”

His first impulse was to wrench his sleeve down over his arm, to cover the Dark Mark from prying Muggle eyes. But he resisted, and after a pause, raised his arm to show Petunia the winding snake and skull. “Yes.”

“I thought as much. I never figured you for a tattoo man, Severus."

Severus shrugged. “People change.”

“But you haven’t ever, really,” Petunia smartly countered. “I think you are quite the same as when Lily and I first met you. You still hold a grudge, at any rate.” Petunia inclined her head towards the banquet hall to punctuate her sentence.

“You don’t like them, either,” Severus defended himself, to which Petunia just shrugged carelessly. Severus and Petunia watched the reception within in silent companionship.

“So, your marriage… are you happy, Petunia?” Severus couldn’t help but ask. He wanted to compare her to Lily, see if she was more similar to her sister, her bright, brilliant sister, than she would admit, even to herself.

“I am very happy,” Petunia said demurely. “That was a very personal question, Severus.”

Severus shrugged. “I suppose... I’ve always been jealous of happy people. One of the reasons Lily and I could not remain friends, I think. I drove her away.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Vernon and I are trying to have a child. But we’ve had no luck so far,” Petunia said quietly. “Even happy people, Severus…”

“I could help,” Severus offered slowly. “I know a potion…”

“No, Severus,” Petunia said gently, coldly. “Even happy people have their trials. I don’t want some magic panacea. I want to be normal, to not be related to a pair of freaks, to not know people like you exist.”

Severus stiffened. “I am fighting people like you.”

“And I’m sure you’ve killed people like me,” Petunia snapped back. “I can see it in your face. It’s the reason you look so ill. No, I would be very happy if I had never met you.”

“I should go,” Severus said suddenly. “I have no business being here.”

“Yes, I should go, too. It was a mistake to come. Goodbye, Severus.”

“Goodbye, Petunia.” He watched her get in the car, watched Vernon lean over and ask her something which she dismissed. He watched until the taillights of the car faded away. Then, with another small pop, he disapparated back to the sickly darkness of Lestrange Manor.


	5. Severus (Age 37), Petunia (Age 41)

Severus levitated the boxes to the door of the house on Spinner’s End, and then slowly, one by one, carried them out the door and to the sidewalk. He had decided it was time; he no longer needed the house or most of the possessions inside. When his mother died, he had boxed her possessions and shoved them into an empty room where they had sat for almost two decades. Over the years, his own possessions had joined hers, in boxes and trunks, leftovers from his days as a Death Eater, and then a professor at Hogwarts.

He no longer needed these things. The blatantly magical artefacts were burned in the fireplace or destroyed otherwise; everything else was going to be carted away tonight, to a landfill, to a tip, to the bottom of the sea, he didn’t care. This year he would be at Hogwarts, the so-called Headmaster, but really just another pawn in the game between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, influential as always even after his death. And next year, or the year after that, or whenever this ridiculous war ended, he would have no more reason to live, no need for these boxes and boxes of accumulated history. He had nothing, therefore, he needed nothing.

The estate agent was coming tomorrow afternoon to inspect the house and prepare it for sale. He didn’t know why; it was just how these things were done. He couldn’t imagine that the house was worth anything. He might as well burn the place down.

Severus struggled to carry a particularly large box out from his house and down the sidewalk. He cursed inwardly, wishing he could use magic for everything. He dropped the box heavily at the end of the walk, and something inside shattered. A dull sort of curiosity rose up in him, and he pried the lid off to see what had broken. It was the glass in a picture frame; the photograph inside was moving: fifteen-year-old Severus and Lily on Christmas Break, still several months away from their falling out. Lily, laughing, always laughing and beautiful and bright, so bright. Severus, moody smile on his face, saying something long forgotten to Lily. Christmas tree in the background, green garlands, fairy lights. They were so happy, so heartbreakingly happy. Severus removed the photo from the frame, tucked it into a pocket into his faded, ancient jeans. He never wore Muggle clothes, and the jeans he wore had to be at least ten years old. The photo had to fold to fit in his pocket, a straight line, dividing the photographic versions of Severus and Lily.

He set the lid back on the box gently, and straightened up. A car was coming down the street, and he broodingly watched it. As the car reached where he stood, however, it slowed down and then came to a hesitant stop. The window rolled down, and a dark-haired head with oversized sunglasses peered out.

“Petunia. What a surprise,” Severus said, some of his familiar old sneer coming back over his face.

“Yes, well, I was just passing through town, visiting Vernon’s cousin Louisa. She’s very ill, or at least _pretending_ to be very ill. I didn’t expect to see you here at all, Severus. I haven’t seen you since… 1980, wasn’t it? Lily’s –”

“Yes,” Severus cut in abruptly.

“I haven’t really thought of you since, I have to admit. I supposed you were dead or something, after that war of yours,” Petunia said with the same old carelessness and snobbery.

“I am a professor at your nephew’s school. Headmaster, actually, now… Dumbledore died.”

“Oh? I had heard about Dumbledore. But I can’t imagine you teaching. Harry never mentioned you.”

Severus actually cracked a thin smile at this. “Yes, well, Harry hates me. And I don’t particularly care for him either. He takes after his father far too much. He’s conceited and impertinent and not particularly talented. I would have expected more from him, seeing how gifted his mother was. But, I was wrong.”

“We share an opinion of him, then, Severus,” Petunia said. “But, I am obligated to protect him.”

Severus nodded. “I have done what I could for him, too, given his attitude towards me, and my own emotions.”

“You still care for Lily, don’t you?” Petunia asked. “Did you love her?”

Severus turned slightly away from Petunia, struggling for words and composure. “You have always had a way of phrasing things, Petunia. You are very blunt.”

Petunia’s mouth twisted. “Indeed. Well, if it means anything to you, the boy is safe for now.”

Severus nodded, slowly. It did mean something; Lily would have wanted her son to be safe, to be happy… He had tried, maybe not so much on the “happy” part, but… he had tried. And he would keep trying, even if it would kill him.

“He doesn’t talk to us, hardly at all, but I suspect he’s not returning to school this autumn.”

“I’m not surprised. He… thinks that I killed Dumbledore. And he’s on some mission now, to complete what Dumbledore started. It is imperative that he completes this mission,” Severus explained.

“Did you really kill Dumbledore?” Petunia asked.

Severus levelly looked Petunia in the eye. “Yes. But – and I cannot explain it all – I am innocent, in a manner of speaking.”

“I believe you, actually,” Petunia said. “So, what next? I know there is another war on. What are you going to do?”

Severus shrugged weakly. “What I have to do. And after that… well, I don’t think that I will be around much longer. Things are much worse this time… my chance of survival is… well, even if I survived, I don’t know if I’d want to live much… At least I am on the right side, this time. I think.”

There was something remarkably like pity in Petunia’s eyes, which held Severus’ gaze even as he confessed this.

“Well, goodbye then, Severus,” Petunia said. Severus raised a hand to wave, but held his tongue. Petunia rolled up her window, and continued to drive down the street.

Severus returned indoors, began to lift another box to set outside on the curb, when something occurred to him. He set the box back down, waded through the narrow, crowded hallway, and into his sitting room. The fireplace was still blazing, even in the summer heat. Occasionally, a blue or green spark would shoot out, the result of some magic thing burned there perhaps hours and hours ago. Severus put a hand into his pocket and drew out the photograph from the box. He watched for a moment, Lily laughing, him smiling, saying something… what was he saying? The dividing line between them, a crease, a fold.

With a sudden jerk of his hand, he threw the photograph into the fire. Red-orange flames licked at its edges; Lily was still laughing, laughing, always laughing, always bright, even as the paper curled and Severus’ image burned away, a shrivelling, black thing… and then there was nothing more, just a trail of smoke and little bit of ash on the hearth.


End file.
